"Are you ok?" Richie asked from what seemed like the other side of the world. Melvin didn't answer; instead, he grabbed at the concrete wall of the parking garage to break his fall as his knees buckled. Stars flittered in front of his eyes, and he couldn't breath.

A car pulled up next to them. The door opened.

"Get him in," a woman's voice said. It sounded like Bridget Briswell, his lawyer. But how did she know where he was?

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"Brenda?" Richie asked.

"No, stupid ass. I'm Bridget. Help me get him in the car." Melvin felt hands grip him under his armpits, and the world went black.